Dirt Under My Fingernails

November - June = 7 months since I've written. That's a sign that I've been busy and certainly not bored!

This year has been a very different year from last year. Last year I chomped at the bit, hating having been uprooted from the cool, comfortable black dirt soil of my lifelong home and transplanted into the foreign, hot, humid, red clay soil of the south. My roots couldn't move, couldn't find water, couldn't breathe. The harder I struggled, the harder it became. When I finally stopped fighting and relaxed, I started to understand how to operate in this new environment.

Now I've come up for my second season in this garden and I'm seeing all kinds of beauty that was lost on me the first time around. It's been good for me, I just didn't know it at the time.

I've made friends. I've grown. I've laughed. I've loved. My roots have found water.